


save the hero

by killyourdarlings (fluxwire)



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Sky High - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluxwire/pseuds/killyourdarlings
Summary: Donghyuck is a benevolent villain in the making and Mark is his hopeless charity case.(the sky high au no one but myself asked for)-chapter one is edited for better flow, if you read this when this was first posted, i recommend a re-read





	1. when life gives you lemons, make apple juice

**Author's Note:**

> based on (in my very valid opinion) the best superhero film ever. theres no need for you to have seen the film. a couple of character dynamics have been borrowed and certain elements have been modified to fit the plot i wanted to write.
> 
> rated teen audiences for swearing and ~*~ very mild sexual jokes ~*~ bc. teenagers lol
> 
> additionally for reference:  
> — dreamies still follow their canonical age order but are younger than they rly are irl (as in 00line are 16-17/freshmen in skr age)  
> — hyungline are aged up by a couple of yrs

Mark hates the bus to Sky High.

“Dude, it’s so cool, it’s like starting every school day with a rollercoaster ride,” Jaehyun had always raved over family dinners. Mark would shiver at the thought while their father echoed his sentiments.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Taeyong offers his best attempt at a reassuring smile from across the table that morning.

Mark smiles out of courtesy. He knows Taeyong hasn’t ridden the bus since his first day of freshman year, upon their father’s insistence that he rides it at least once in his life for tradition’s sake. (“I don’t like being in high places in contraptions I can’t control,” he’d explained to them the next morning after presenting his proposed individual flight route to school.)

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you won’t have to take it once you’ve learned how to control your powers,” their mother chimes in as he pours herself another cup of coffee.

“Exactly. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it within the first week of school. Right, son?” his father adds with a hearty laugh. Mark laughs along awkwardly in response.

Mark remains silent throughout the rest of the meal, taking spoonfuls of rice into his mouth one after another despite the sinking feeling settling in his gut and letting the conversation fly over his head, occasionally responding affirmatively when he picks up his own name being spoken, but for much of it, he keeps his gaze trained on his meal until a familiar dial tone interrupts them, driving the entire room to high tensions with three rings.

Mark’s mom answers the phone, phrasing curt _mm-hmms_ and an occasional roger here and there. “We have to go,” she says promptly as soon as the call ends. They all nod in understanding, rising from their seats wordlessly to head for the basement, leaving Mark with a table full of half eaten meals to clear.

Mark stands so that he can start clearing the table when Mark’s mom rushes back to his side just before the basement door opens, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. She whispers as she ruffles his hair and pulls him in a tight embrace, “I know you’re going to make us all proud.”

Silence invades the room as soon as he hears the basement doors close, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heaves out a heavy sigh as he carefully picks up the dishes from the table, stacking them on top of each other and balancing them precariously on his one hand. He dumps the dishes into the sink, and unlocks his phone.

 **na jaemin:** yo look at your fam [link attached]

He clicks the link out of curiosity, opening up a livestream of the downtown crime scene where his family are engaged in a heated battle against a 10-storey high fire breathing mechanical T-Rex.

His mom and Taeyong circle the fiend strategically, waiting for the perfect moment to launch Jaehyun and his dad so that they can land onto the T-Rex’s weak spots. Mark almost misses the exact moment when they let go of the two brawns due to their speed, but he catches the small explosion from where Jaehyun is tugging against the exposed wiring of the T-Rex along the joints of its lower limbs. Taeyong and his mom continue to distract the T-Rex by flying in circles over its head, defective leg causing it to wobble as it struggles to follow them in the air with its fire breath, allowing his dad to deliver a finishing blow to the back of its head, causing it to surge forward and fall into the city’s biggest man-made pond.

The crowd roars, and the livestream cuts to the journalist congratulating the Strongholds for another job well done. Mark presses x and locks his phone.

 _I know you’re going to make us all proud,_ his mom’s words ring in his ear. He knows they mean well, that they have a lot of faith in him - but in times like this he really wishes he never found out about his powers instead.

\--

Mark finds Renjun already waiting for him silently by the bus stop, tapping away on his phone while leaning against the lamp post. He's drowning in the fabric of his pullover even though it’s already halfway through summer.

“Took you long enough,” Renjun greets him before Mark even gets close enough to say hi, pocketing his phone.

“Parents held me up.”

Renjun nods in understanding. “Wouldn’t stop talking about upholding the Stronghold family tradition, huh?” They’ve been neighbors long enough for him to know how overbearing high-profile superhero parents can be. Plus, they’re Asian. Mark feels like he’s carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders at fifteen. “Any progress with your powers?”

Mark sighs. “Don’t ask.”

Renjun pats his shoulder sympathetically. “If it makes you feel any better, I still can't make lemons.”

“Not being able to make lemons won't cost you your life in a fight, Renjun.”

Renjun shrugs. “You never know.”

“Nevermind that, did you get a tan?” Mark says, pulling up Renjun's sleeves to inspect his arm. “Where did your family drag you to this time?”

“Australia.” Renjun shrugs him off. “Mom wanted to help distressed kangaroos there or something.”

“Why'd she bring you along?”

“Needed me to grow vegetation to feed them with, as per usual.” Renjun comes from a family of empaths and renowned activists. His mother, animal empath, rehabilitates endangered species to normal population levels and as a plant empath, he gets roped into her work a lot, gets dragged to a new foreign country every school break. Mark barely heard from him at the height of the panda bear rehabilitation, too busy regrowing bamboo shoots to even reach for his phone.

It's part of the reason Renjun didn't want to have powers at all.

“It'll just be hassle if other people find out,” Renjun told Mark back in summer camp six years ago, insisting that Mark kept his powers a secret between the two of them after Renjun was inevitably forced to use his powers to save Mark from falling off an oak tree branch he’d gotten stuck on, too terrified to crawl back down to solid ground after realizing that he was dangling over a river.

Camp counselors would catch him anyway by reviewing the camp’s CCTV footage (who knew wilderness camps had CCTV, right?) and inform his mother later on.

They’ve never really talked about it, never really had the chance or need to do so—but Mark has always wanted to apologize for it, even though he knows Renjun would say there’s no need for it. After all, Renjun has grown to like his powers and the duties that came with it. (“I mean, I get to travel for free,” he’d said once after Mark asked him if he liked his powers after seeing Renjun’s face bloom as he grew his first orchid. Renjun would never admit it to anyone, but Mark knows his warmest smiles come out when he's doing things no one else can with his powers.)

-

Jeno and Jaemin who both live in the east side of Metropolis, closer to the hustle and bustle of the city’s business center, are already comfortably seated at the back of the bus when Renjun and Mark board it. Jeno excitedly waves for them to sit beside them, rising from his seat and almost doubling over the seat in from of him as the bus speeds away from the suburbs, only to be saved by Jaemin’s elastic arm wrapping around his waist to safely pull him back down.

Mark stutters in his steps and Renjun has to forcefully usher him forward with both of his hands planted firmly on Mark’s shoulders to prevent them from incurring an injury before even setting foot on the campus.

They plop down on the seats beside Jaemin and Renjun, and it takes a few minutes for Mark’s pulse to stop thundering in his ear, intensity heightened by the knowledge that the bus they’re riding is already up in the air, a metal death trap cruising roughly through the sky.

He finally forces one eye open to peek out the window, and for a split second he almost thinks the mini heart attack this ride cost him is well worth the view of the cloudy blue sky surrounding them, wisps of white almost close enough to touch. The sight makes him think of Taeyong and their mom, and how they have the luxury of being able to fly up to see this any time they want to. Mark feels envy bubbling up in his gut at the thought.

The bus ride is as bumpy as a bus flying through the stratosphere can be, and even as Mark continues to admire the scenery, his hands continue to clutch the arm rests tightly, grip tightening even more every time the bus tilts slightly to either direction.

“We’re preparing for landing soon. Make sure to account for your belongings before getting off the bus,” the bus driver finally announces over the bus com as the bus steadily descends in altitude, and it only hits Mark that he’s actually _here_ when the bus lands, tires squeaking as it hits the concrete surface of the driveway, the sound stealing his breath away. They’re here, on the Sky High campus where he’s supposed to do Great Things and become one of the Great Heroes everyone expects him to be. Mark definitely feels like throwing up now.

He takes a wary step forward, relief washing over him when the bus doesn’t wobble with his step. The feeling only lasts for a split second until he remembers the freshman assembly after overhearing the other freshmen speculate about the program since the power placement test was already conducted in private during the medical exam. God it feels like he’s waited forever and a half for this suffocating feeling to end, only for another one to take place. Renjun nudges his shoulder with his own, because Renjun has always been his eerily perceptive best friend and he just _knows_ what Mark feels before Mark can even begin to place a finger on it.

“I’m okay,” Mark lies, slinging his bag over his shoulder as they join the other students slowly filtering out of the bus. Renjun settles for humming in response, wordlessly tilting his head in the direction of the seemingly endless steps leading up to the school’s main hall. Mark grips his bag strap tighter and follows Renjun to join the rest of the students as they’re directed to the school’s gym for freshmen welcome assembly.

-

August is worse in the floating campus of Sky High, Mark figures out as he melts in the heat of the gymnasium while they wait for the freshman assembly to begin. Indistinct chatter fills the wide expanse of the hall and pounds against his already aching head, and he feels so faint that he almost doesn’t notice a bright ball of white light headed straight towards them until it bursts right at the podium, blinding them for a good ten seconds, until the voice of a woman cuts through the confusion and forces their attention back to the podium, “Welcome freshmen, I’m Kwon Boa. You may address me as Principal Powers.”

“It’s my pleasure to welcome you all to Sky High, an institution founded to address the pressing need for a safe space where young heroes can not only hone their gifts, but also be afforded the chance to experience a normal high school life. Here we believe that effective socialization will increase your chances of safety when the time comes for you all to navigate living in a normal society on your own.”

Mark finds his attention glued to her all throughout, notes that she’s not even using a microphone as she speaks. It’s so so quiet in the gym that one could hear a pin drop in between pauses of her speech. Mark watches her scan the crowd as she speaks, and a shiver flows through his body as her gaze glosses over him, meeting his glance for a split second before moving on.

“As an institution of heroes, it is our duty to prioritize the safety of our students and fellow heroes, because we believe heroes need not be martyrs whose lives need to be sacrificed in the process of doing good.” Applause from the front row prompts her to stop striding across the stage, standing in middle until the noise dies down. “And as your principal, I hope your stay at Sky High proves to be a fruitful three years. Thank you and have a great first day, freshmen.”

There’s that blinding light again, and Mark has to close his eyes to shield his vision from its brightness, and when he opens his eyes, Principal Powers is gone.

-

“Is it just me or are people staring at us?” Mark asks in a hushed tone as he finally reaches their table, careful not to look over his shoulder where he feels figurative daggers being thrown at his back. They’ve already dug into their food, and Mark swallows the childish envy he feels rising in his chest with a bite of his sad, soggy pizza.

On days like this when both his mother and Taeyong are on call, he’s the only one among them who has to suffer from the horrors of the school cafeteria menu. Jeno’s mother always cooks in batches big enough for a whole squadron, and Jaemin had made it his mission to mooch off of Jeno’s packed lunch way back in kindergarten. Renjun follows a strictly pescetarian diet because his mom can talk to all forms of life except water-dwelling ones and decided that any sea critters were practically aliens and fair game from that point on.

“Dunno,” Jaemin says as he comes up for air from Jeno’s lunch to respond to Mark. Jeno has to clasp a hand against his back when Jaemin almost chokes on a radish and his arms stretch out and flounder about dangerously in search for water.

“It’s probably because of Jaemin’s horrible table manners,” Renjun says, shoving his water bottle towards Jaemin with an exasperated sigh. Jaemin’s elongated arms reaches for it and retract to bring the bottle to his lips, chugging half the container within five seconds.

“Or it’s because you’re all generational heroes,” a foreign voice cuts through their conversation from behind Mark, unfamiliar arm suddenly wrapping around his shoulder to pull him into a tight headlock. “And are the perfect candidates for the best Save the Citizen team on campus.” The tight headlock gets impossibly tighter and Mark is pretty sure he's getting choked at this point. Renjun raises a questioning brow at him and mouths, _you know this guy?_ and Mark struggles to shake his head in response.

“Stop injuring our recruits, Lucas. One more injury you cause and you’re back to second string,” someone else threatens from further behind, and the hold on Mark’s neck loosens immediately, Lucas retracting his arm so quick Mark could swear he imagined it happening. “Sorry about him, he’s always on some form of sugar high. I’m Koeun, vice captain of the New Eagles STC squad. Nice to meet you all.”

“I thought Save the Citizen was played in pairs?” Mark tentatively shakes her outstretched hand. Her grip is firm, even for someone like him with super strength.

“Regulations were modified last year. There have been a couple of new teams formed since but we’re the only team the school has officially recognized so far,” Koeun explains, pride palpable in the way her chin rises just so as she speaks. “You guys should check out our team sometime. Tryouts are this Friday and we train everyday after school at the gym if you’re interested,” she informs all of them, but trains her attention back to Mark. She has eyes like a hawk’s, and Mark can’t help but feel like crawling out of his skin to look for cover from its sheer intensity.

“I don’t think our parents would let us join extracurriculars so early in our stay here,” Renjun quickly supplies to save Mark from possibly choking on his own words.

Koeun narrows her eyes at him, maintaining eye contact for a whole five seconds, before something in Koeun’s expression shifts, relaxes. She takes a step back and Lucas is standing behind her now, towering over her even with his god-awful posture. “That’s unfortunate, but I completely understand.”

“Well, we’ll leave you to enjoy your lunch in peace. If any of you change your minds, the offer still stands. Playing for a winning team won’t look bad on your record either,” she offers one last time, this time with a smile before briskly walking away, gesturing for Lucas to follow her. Lucas lags behind, smiling widely at Mark who doesn’t register his fries are gone until a strong gust of wind passes them and leaves him empty handed.

-

Like any other school, first day at Sky High goes by quickly, with classes being dismissed early after short introductions. In between classes, Mark passes time at the quad, where other freshmen are also hanging out. He loses himself in the white noise of the bustle and he almost doesn't notice that his next and final class is scheduled to start, jolting when his phone goes off to signal he has five minutes to get to his next class.

“Welcome to Tactical Defense and Combat,” is what he's greeted with the moment he opens the door to the classroom, gasping loudly for air and gripping the doorknob tightly for purchase. “Do make sure you come on time for the follow sessions, or you'll be counted as absent from my class, Mr. Lee.”

“Yes, sir,” Mark breathes out, bowing apologetically as he slips into one of the only two vacant seats in the room, situated right beside the door. He's so exhausted he doesn't realize a student is trailing behind him until said student settles into the seat beside his.

“As I was saying,” the teacher continues. “I’m Dr. Kim Doyoung, your teacher for tactical defense and combat. As the course name suggests, we’ll be learning various ways to fight and defend, incorporating pertinent uses of your powers, surroundings, your body, and even own your opponent.

“Additionally, this is also the only freshman class that does not segregate students according to their hero subclasses, which means you’ll be working with all types of superpowered students, heroes, antiheroes, and hero support alike—” His last sentence inciting murmurs from the class, pushing him to pause to wait for the whispers to die down.

“If any of you have a problem with that, feel free to request to be transferred to a class that will be credited as a substitute for this one and will still accept you this late into the first day of the semester.” He says, voice tense, and then, "any questions?" His shoe tapping against the linoleum floor expectantly.  When he's met with silence, he starts distributing a stack of papers to each column.

“Take extreme caution not to lose your syllabus. All your graded activities are listed on there, including your weekly take home activities. As we only get to meet twice a week, I’ve decided to require that these activities be done in pairs.”

Mark glances over his shoulder to scan the room for anyone he knows, panicking internally when he realizes none of his friends are here, until Dr. Kim’s voice resurfaces to cut through his train of thought. Mark makes a quick work of fetching his notebook from his sling bag, rushing to take down notes regarding the first assignment. It seems easy enough and Mark almost entertains the risk of doing the assignment all on his own, but he’s pretty sure Dr. Kim would fail him instantly if he even tried.

“Finally, to make this easier, we’re using our assigned seat plan, and you’ll be working with whoever is seated beside you for the rest of the semester—”

Mark tries to discreetly glance at his seatmate, finding himself distracted by his bright red hair as an onslaught of protests from the students fills the classroom.

“This is non-negotiable. See you next Friday. Class dismissed.”

Mark turns to his still unnamed seatmate as soon as Dr. Kim steps out of the room, only to find out that his seatmate has already made a beeline for the room’s backdoor. He shoves his belongings into his bag and rushes to follow the bright patch of hair among the crowd.


	2. with a thrill in my head (and a pill on my tongue)

“Hey!” Mark says struggling to walk beside his still nameless partner, lagging by a few strides.

Donghyuck looks over his shoulder to find Mark Lee patiently following him, which has him stopping in his tracks, blinking as he attempts to process the fact that Mark Lee, youngest member of the Stronghold Five, is trying to talk to him.

 _He probably thinks I’m someone else,_ Donghyuck tells himself. After all, why else would a hero want to talk to the son of a convicted villain under normal non-threatening circumstances? Donghyuck increases his pace at the thought, half expecting and half hoping for Mark to get the hint or just totally fall behind at some point.

If he had any common sense, he would.

Except Donghyuck quickly figures out that Mark probably has less than two functioning brain cells because he keeps on following him, like a stray dog, wagging its tail around and wide eyes begging for a treat. Donghyuck heads straight for the men’s bathroom, refusing to acknowledge his existence until they’re alone, locking the door and checking all the cubicles for a single soul. Donghyuck turns to the sink to wash his hands, watching Mark through the mirror while he asks, “What do you want, Stronghold?”

Mark’s expression stiffens, “We’re supposed to be partners.”

“What?” Donghyuck stops rinsing his hands, turning off the faucet and heating it up with his own flames to dry it off. He turns to regard Mark who still looks like he thinks Donghyuck’s going to roast his head off but is standing his ground regardless.

“For Tactical Defense class? Under Dr. Kim?” Mark says, voice uncharacteristically small for someone who can theoretically crush Donghyuck with his bare hands.

Donghyuck stares at him blankly, ceramic digging into the small of his back as he leans back against it. _Well, good luck with that,_ is what he wants to say, but then he’s reminded that Dr. Kim is the school’s scholarship advisor, which means he actually has to _try_ in his class. “Can’t you just look for another partner?” He sighs. “I’m sure our classmates are _dying_ to work with you.”

“We’ll both have to find new partners if I did that,” he explains, tone sounding more stable this time, even as he shifts between his feet nervously. “And, I don’t think we have the time.”

Neither does Donghyuck have friends in the class (or at all, but Mark doesn’t need to be privy to that information). “Fine,” he resigns, and then, “But don’t just go around calling me in the hallways like that.”

“Why?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “It ruins my image.” Pushing himself off the sink and taking a step towards Mark, who backs away almost instantly. “And yours too.”

Mark nods slowly, and then his eyes widen almost instantly, like lightning struck his being and goes “how will we meet then?”

“You have a phone, don’t you?”

Mark fishes his phone from his pocket on cue, fumbling and almost dropping it on wet and dirty bathroom tiles. He hands it over with shaky hands and Donghyuck has to resist the urge to laugh. It’s _almost_ cute how transparently on edge he is (but it’s mostly funny).

Donghyuck takes it in his hands, keying in his phone number and miss calling it once. “I’ll text you when I’m free to meet and where,” he says as he hands the phone back.

Mark nods, looking at his phone screen where the contact displays as “tactical defense partner”, and it’s only after the other boy has left does he realize that he still doesn’t know his name.

-

It’s two days before Mark hears from his partner again, whose name he still doesn’t know—he’d meant to ask around, but being a freshman all over again is proving to be more difficult than he originally imagined, especially with every class he has dumping their own share of “light, introductory” school work. With the influx of things to do, it’s a miracle that Mark’s even made some progress researching the topic on his own. Still, Mark would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting antsy from the radio silence.

He’s in fifth period, trying to stay awake through Hero History when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

_meet me after school outside the gym_

_dont be late_

He types in a one-handed _ok_ underneath his desk, barely getting to hit send before Mr. Do creeps up from behind him to peek at his phone screen.

“I trust you know the school’s policy regarding cellular devices, Mr. Lee,” he says, palm held out expectantly.

Mark wordlessly obliges, placing his phone gingerly on Mr. Do’s upturned palm. He’s grateful Mr. Do doesn’t seem like the type to read messages out loud, he thinks as he recalls his mom calling him Markiepoo via text just a couple of messages back.

Mr. Do walks back to his desk and slots the phone into one of the many pockets of his messenger bag. “You can retrieve your phone after your final period. I’ll be in the faculty room until 4:30.”

Nameless tactical defense partner is _so_ going to kill him.

-

“You’re late.”

“S-sorry,” Mark struggles to say in between shallow breaths, bent over from exhaustion with his hands gripping his knee caps to hold himself up. “Got held up.”

Mark feels something solid tap the top of his head, forcing himself to look up and bump his forehead against the plastic water bottle his partner is holding out in front of him. He winces as he takes the container in his hand and mumbles thanks under his breath.

Mark twists he bottle cap off, then brings close to his mouth, careful not to let it touch his lips when he hears a snicker that makes him jerk and spill water all over his shirt.

“Just drink it like a normal person. God, what are you, twelve and scared of cooties?”

“I was doing it in case _you_ were scared of them,” Mark retorts for the first time since meeting him, which seems to momentarily catch the other by surprise, eyes widening at the comeback.

“Are you admitting to having cooties?” He recovers.

There’s a smirk on his face again, completely devoid of any shock it exhibited just a second ago, and Mark can only look away in response.

“Don't worry, I'm sure no one will take my word over yours anyway,” he assures Mark with a dismissive wave of his hand.

-

They actually make progress, much to Mark's surprise. They split the work equally into half and his partner agrees to sending progress reports daily to make sure they're on track and there are no overlaps or gaps between their work. For now they work in relative silence in the campus library as they both read through the books they’ve assigned each other to read, occasionally stopping to discuss what could be used as one of the main subtopics for their presentation.

“What?” His partner stops in the middle of jotting down a quote from the book to raise a questioning brow at him.

“Huh?”

“You're looking at me funny.”

“Oh,” Mark says unintelligently. Mark figures there's no harm in telling him what he thinks. “I just didn't expect you to be so cooperative.”

His partner snorts at that. “I don't like working with people, but I'm not trying to flunk out of high school,” he says, going back to his notes. “At least not yet anyway.”

“What?”

“I'm joking, god. Are all heroes this humourless?” He says clucking his tongue as he prepares to launch a balled up sheet of paper into a trash bin across the room.

Mark follows the ball as it’s thrown in the air and prematurely descends, hitting the back of the head of an upperclassman instead.

“Fuck,” he hears his partner whisper under his breath briefly before his partner ducks down to hide, letting the lowrise bookshelves beside their table hide him from the upperclassman’s line of sight. Mark is taken by surprise when he’s yanked down to his partner’s level by the arm, the abruptness of it causing him to lose his balance and knock into his partner who ends up lying on the ground with Mark hovering above him, right arm barely preventing himself from falling on top of him.

“Uh,” Mark tries.

Nameless partner hushes him with a hiss and a warm hand over his mouth. The right hand pressed against Mark’s left chest slowly pushes him off as his partner struggles to sit upright.

“Why are we—” Mark whispers when his partner finally uncovers his mouth. They’re crouched down behind the bookshelves, facing each other. From this angle, Mark can see his partner’s freckles, momentarily getting lost counting the numerous sunspots.

“I bumped into that guy during the freshman assembly. He was _not_ happy,” his partner says under his breath, pulling him out of his reverie.

Mark tilts his head. He knows his partner is probably strong enough to take on an upperclassman. Though he’s never seen him fight, he can just feel it from the way he handles his power with so much ease. “Can’t you just take him?” Mark blurts out honestly.

The comment earns him a smack to the back of his head. “That’s a great idea—if you’re trying to get me to burn down this entire building!”

“Hey, it was just a suggestion,” Mark says, hands raised to defend himself from his partner. It’s not until he hears footsteps closing in on their location that he realizes they’ve stopped whispering. He looks up and finds the upperclassman with hands resting on either hip, chest puffed up to look Extra Threatening, scowling down at them.

“Lee Donghyuck, you little dipshit,” the upperclassman says, drawing out his worlds for dramatic effect.

“And that’s my cue to go—” Donghyuck says, bolting from where he’s crouched down. He pauses by the library entrance to look back and call out to Mark with a wave of his hand, “I’ll email you my part later!”

After Mark has packed up his things, he pulls out his phone and looks through his contacts, scrolling until he gets to letter T.  _Tactical Defense Partner_ , it says. He presses edit and enters _Lee Donghyuck_ , smiling as he selects save.


	3. i'll be your hero and win it (when the lights go out)

“I heard you were partnered with Lee Donghyuck for Tactical Defense,”  Lucas greets him right before first period as he’s stuffing his belongings into his locker.

“Uh, how’d you know?”

“The whole school knows, dude. It’s what everyone’s been talking about! Everyone’s betting on Donghyuck, but don’t worry, I placed my bet on you.”

“What do you mean?” Mark says, shutting his locker door to look at Lucas questioningly.

Lucas pockets his freakishly huge hands and shrugs, “I mean, we’re all placing bets on who’ll win between the two of you when you guys inevitably fall out.”

“Inevitably?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” Lucas looks genuinely shocked, and Mark is officially confused, forehead scrunching up even more as he tries to figure out what kind of information about Donghyuck should he have already known beforehand. Lucas laughs at him, “You really don’t know, huh? That your parents locked up Donghyuck’s dad?”

Just then, Mark sees Donghyuck’s signature blazing red hair from the corner of his eye, and Mark finally realizes how much of a dunce he is to not notice how the crowd parts to make way for him - to stay away from him. Donghyuck’s eyes meet his as he approaches Mark, and for the first time since they’ve met, it’s Donghyuck who looks away first.

-

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mark asks later, eyes fully trained on Donghyuck’s all-too relaxed form. The question has been eating away at him since he found out about their parental relations from Lucas and he drums his fingers impatiently against the surface of the table they’ve chosen to occupy this afternoon.  They’re huddled up again in the library, this time in a much more secluded corner where Donghyuck can freely throw paper balls into the trash can without danger of pissing off another upperclassman.

“I thought you already knew,” Donghyuck shrugs, maneuvering the laptop so that it’s front of him instead. He taps vigorously as he speaks, “ _I_ should be the one who’s surprised that you were totally clueless about it.”

Mark pouts, playing with the dog ear flap of the notebook laid out in front of him. “How was I supposed to know? We haven’t even covered modern heroes in Hero History yet.”

Donghyuck has to snort to resist the urge to laugh. “You really never asked your parents? Never bothered figuring out if they had any arch nemeses you should be worried about?”

“I mean, I never thought I’d encounter any of them!” Mark whisper shouts. “Wait, you’re not…?”

“I'm not what?” Donghyuck looks up from the laptop screen and flashes a knowing smile at him.

“Ugh, y’know what? Don't answer that.” Mark buries his head in his hands. “Whatever you are, I don't need to know.”

Then, Donghyuck laughs light and harmless—a juvenile sort of laugh that sounds totally unvillainous that catches Mark off guard, has him burying his face deeper into his hands for an entirely different reason.

“What's the matter, Mark Lee?” He says and Mark can see him leaning back through the spaces between his fingers, looking smug as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in battle?”

Mark almost says yes. Truth be told, he's terrified of Donghyuck’s power, of his control over it. At his level, Donghyuck could make him eat dirt in combat.

“Don't worry,” Donghyuck says when Mark chooses to remain silent, leaning forward to direct his attention back to Mark’s laptop. “I might just spare you if we ever have to fight.”

It's a joke, Mark knows as much. But for some reason, Mark believes it.

-

On Friday, Mark almost doesn’t recognize Donghyuck when he removes his bucket hat as he enters the classroom, revealing honey brown hair underneath instead of the bright devilish red he’s grown accustomed to.

“Don’t say a word,” Donghyuck warns him when he catches Mark staring intently at his new hair, eyes glued to it even as Donghyucks slides into his seat.

“I’m glad tomato sauce isn’t your natural hair color,” Mark blatantly disobeys his threat, smiling and feeling brave.

“Just because my hair isn’t bloody doesn’t mean I can’t burn you to crisp, Stronghold,” he says without bite, still facing front and refusing to look at Mark directly.

Mark decides he likes brown-haired Donghyuck a lot.

Just then, the door swings open and Dr. Kim greets them with, “Who wants to go first?”

Everyone stares in response. Dr. Kim scans the room and Mark could swear his heart stopped as Dr. Kim’s gaze glossed over their tables.

“Alright, Mina and Dayoung, you’re up,” he announces. Mark sighs in relief as he turns to watch the pair walk up to the front to set up.

After that the first presentations go by in a blur, Mark barely taking in anything from their speech. He’s distracted, constantly glancing at Donghyuck who’s reviewing his notes beside him. It almost doesn’t register that Dr. Kim has called them, with Donghyuck having to shake his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

“Good afternoon to everyone. Today we’re going to discuss the advantages of pair work in combat,” Donghyuck begins after setting up their presentation, breezing through the introduction as he moves along. Mark takes a deep breath to clear his mind. Just as the butterflies in his stomach die down, Donghyuck gestures to Mark’s side as if on cue and goes, “To begin, Mark will discuss the roots of this tactic.”

Mark feels Donghyuck give his hand a faint, reassuring squeeze as he passes the remote - one so faint he’s starting to doubt its legitimacy. He presses the remote weakly and moves onto the next slide as he begins. “Since time immemorial, us humans have made use of partering up to better our chances of survival…”

“Well done,” Dr. Kim tells them 30 slides later. Donghyuck gives Mark a small smile and they go back to their seats. “If you haven’t already figured it out yet, there’s another reason why I chose these particular topics for your first task,” Dr. Kim begins to wrap up, standing and striding towards the teacher’s desk in front as he speaks.

“All the lessons will be building blocks for your final exam,” Dr. Kim continues despite the murmurs from the class. “Your final exam will be a practicum of all the lessons we’ve taken up and make up half of your grade for this class. You will also be graded as a pair.”

“What will the exam be like, sir?” A voice from the back asks, causing everyone to direct their attention to the owner of the voice, Kang Mina, for a split second.

Dr. Kim purses his lips before speaking. “It will be one round of Save The Citizen played in pairs,” he says, receiving protests from the students once again.

“With all due respect sir, how can a single round of Save the Citizen determine half of our grade?” Another voice from the left hand side inquires.

“My grading system is split into two parts: theory and praxis. Theory pertains to your coursework like these presentations, written outputs, our weekly lectures, and your participation during those lectures,” Dr. Kim explains as he illustrates it on the whiteboard, back facing his students who stretch their necks trying to peer past his broad shoulders. “Praxis, on the other hand, encompasses the application of these theories. As I cannot task you with going out into the real world just yet, we will have to make do with a simulation of these situations.”

“The mechanics will remain the same. Two pairs will play against each other, with one pair acting as the heroes and another pair acting as the villains. Heroes are tasked with saving the citizen, while villains are supposed to disrupt them. Each pair in this class will have the chance to play as heroes, and your performance as heroes will be the main basis for your grade.” A pause as he turns to face the students before speaking, “But your performance as villains will count as additional points to your actual grade, which means that if you successfully save the citizen as heroes _and_ disrupt the heroes as villains, you can get a grade over a hundred.”

“You have a whole three months to prepare for this. I assume that’s enough time to get into shape, no?”

Silence. They can't say no because it is, but that doesn’t mean the class isn't nervous about it. The butterflies from before his presentation resurface in his gut. He glances over at Donghyuck, who’s already stopped paying attention and is doodling profanities onto his desk’s surface, totally oblivious of Mark’s internal breakdown. If Mark were strong enough to kick him in the crack, he'd do it without hesitation.

Then it hits Mark that Donghyuck’s probably the strongest kid in this room and that while he has absolutely no reason to worry about his own performance, he _does_ have to worry about Mark’s ass dragging him down. Mark realizes that Donghyuck might be his ticket to passing this class - that Donghyuck might just be able to save him.

-

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Donghyuck exclaims after Mark pulls him into the men’s bathroom right after they’re dismissed from class and asks him to be his mentor.

“I mean, we’re going to be graded as a pair! If I fail, then so will you.”

Donghyuck groans. “Shouldn’t you ask your parents or siblings for this kind of shit? I mean, you’re the fucking Superfamily for fuck’s sake.”

“That’s exactly why,” Mark replies. “They’re too busy being the Superfamily to actually teach me, you know?”

“I don’t,” Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t have parents, remember?” He says, looking away. “Never had anyone who could actually teach me how my powers work.”

There’s a beat of silence that has Mark itching to say something, except all that comes out is a measley _sorry_.

“Whatever,” Donghyuck waves a hand dismissively. “Anyway, I’m too busy to dedicate time to teaching you. And we don’t have the same powers, genius. So even if I wanted to teach you - which by the way, I don’t - it wouldn’t work.”

“Theoretically, it should be the same principle, right?” Mark says, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself. “Pyrokinesis is one of the more difficult to control powers out there. If anyone could teach me about the basics of controlling any kind of power, it’s you.”

Donghyuck just hums, lathers in the praise even if it’s borne out of desperation.

““I’ll pay you,” Mark blurts.

Donghyuck looks into Mark’s eye to inspect it for any hint of hesitation. When he finds absolutely none, he begins to consider it.

Truth be told, the prospect of being paid to teach the son of his father’s arch nemesis is just the kind of drama Donghyuck needs to spice up his life. And money aside, he’s really interested in fighting it out with Mark in the future. From what he’s heard Mark has flight _and_ superstrength, and he’s probably the first hero to inherit both of his superparents’ powers - which is more than enough to pique Donghyuck’s interest.

Donghyuck still isn’t sure if he wants to be a hero or a villain or anything at all, but in the event that he decides to be this generation’s villain, he’s going to need a good hero to rival him. There are a couple of candidates in his year, but none of them have as much potential as Mark. And none of them share a juicy backstory with him.

As it is though, Mark won’t stand a chance against Donghyuck. Donghyuck could easily destroy Metropolis with a flick of his hand without Mark disrupting his flow and there would be no fun in that.

“Fine,” Donghyuck finally decides, his ambition outweighing his apathy this once. “But I only have time on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school.”

Mark smiles so wide and blinding that Donghyuck has to wonder if that’s a secret superpower of his too. “Roger that,  Lee seongsaengnim!”

Donghyuck narrows his eyes. “Call me that again and I’m setting your bed on fire in your sleep.”

“Kinky.” The hair color must’ve really changed a lot, Mark rationalizes.  

“Oh my god, that’s it,” Donghyuck begins to dramatically sashay away. “Go find yourself another teacher.”

“See you, Tuesday!” Mark calls out to him, still beaming and Donghyuck can’t bring himself to retort at the sight of it, finding himself rushing out of the bathroom to get away from Mark’s smile.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me over at [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/yongsunnie)
> 
> if you liked this fic and want to support my struggle of continuing it, consider [buying me coffee](http://ko-fi.com/fluxwire)


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